Unfinished Business
by D. M. Robb
Summary: What Emily's father went through when he learned of her tragic fate.


10

_**Unfinished Business**_

James Nightingale awoke to the watery light of early morning spilling through his window. First a quick breakfast, he thought as he washed and dressed, then to work. There was so much to do. He probably wouldn't be able to see too much of Emily today and certainly not at breakfast. She usually didn't get up for at least two hours after he did. By that time he was already swamped with work.

And she had been staying in bed even later these last several mornings.

Someone had slipped a note under his door. It's probably from one of the servants requesting something, he thought, unfolding it.

The writing was Emily's. Ice shards felt as if they were tingling through James' veins as he read it. It was brief, hastily written, but all he could focus on was how sorry she was to disobey him. Still, she loved Barkis and just had to get away. They were to be married early that morning and would then leave town, never to return. "It is for the best," she had ended and signed her name.

Anger surged through him. How could she? He had tried to reason with her, to tell her he didn't trust Barkis. Why did she refuse to listen? What had he done to deserve such a difficult daughter?

He searched every room in the mansion but she couldn't be found. Not even her bed had been slept in.

James' rage increased when he opened the safe and found much of the gold and jewels missing. That was so unlike Emily. That beast had turned his daughter into a runaway…and a thief.

He questioned the servants but none had seen Emily since yesterday. Had she taken anything else? Fighting the pain that this was causing him, James made his way up to the attic where he had stored all of his dead wife Sara's belongings, anything that reminded him of her. He opened the trunk where many of these items had been stashed.

A painful tightness clenched his chest when he noticed that Sara's wedding gown was gone, along with the veil.

Fueled by his anger, James left the manor to search for Emily. He climbed into his carriage and instructed the driver Henry to take him directly to the church where he would confront Pastor Galswells, asking him if he had performed any wedding ceremonies that morning. Was it possible to catch Emily and Barkis before the ceremony? He hoped he wasn't too late. If he was, he would force the young couple to have the marriage annulled.

James continued to fight the fury that burned within. Plans churned through his mind. He would first take back the family treasure they had stolen and then send Barkis away. If the young man refused, James would have him arrested. Then he would drag Emily home and give her a sound thrashing. This disturbed him since, although he had scolded her plenty of times, he had never hit her. But his mind was made up. She needed to be taught a lesson. The next thing he would do was choose a husband for her himself, someone with prospects. There would be no more of this running away with any lowlife who passes through town!

His anger mixed with nerves as the carriage rumbled over the stone bridge that led to the church. James had never been a religious man but, ever since Sara had died, he couldn't stand to even _look_ at the church, let alone enter it. And he had never cared for Pastor Galswells, finding him to be cold and insensitive.

James struggled to calm his restless heart as he knocked on the church's doors. The sound was dismal and hollow.

Moments later, the door drew aside, revealing the long, sharp-featured face of Pastor Galswells. The man's eyes widened when he saw James.

"Lord Nightingale?" the Pastor said in his deep, haunting voice. "I haven't seen the likes of you for years. What brings you here at such an early hour?"

Lord? Had James not been so desperate to find Emily, he might have laughed. His lack of a title had actually been a sore point with Sara's family who were of the aristocracy. But Sara had always despised titles and only put up with being called Lady Nightingale at fancy social functions. Her parents had looked down somewhat at James, a simple businessman, albeit a wealthy one.

Had they felt the same way about me as I did toward Barkis? he fleetingly wondered. But at least I had a profession and money…

"Pastor Galswells," he began, too impatient to be delayed by pleasantries. "Have you seen my daughter Emily, by any chance? She left me a note, saying that she had planned to get married early this morning."

"No one has been by," Pastor Galswells said, brushing at his cleric's robe. "And certainly not anyone looking to get married. You would do well to keep an eye on that daughter of yours, Lord Nightingale. Rumor has it that she is quite the rebel, much like her mother." He smiled coldly.

"Good day, Pastor Galswells," James said curtly as he started away. A cold knot lay in his chest. No one had been married that morning. Didn't Emily's note say that that's what she and Barkis were doing? Did they just decide to forgo the ceremony and run away?

"Any luck, sir?" asked Henry as James approached the carriage.

He shook his head. "You go on back home, Henry. I prefer to search for her on foot."

"As you wish, sir." Henry snapped the reins. The horses' hooves clattered against the cobblestones as the carriage pulled away.

The sky was smeared with dark, threatening clouds and a chill wind blew. The scent of rain clung to the air. James shivered and buttoned his coat as he wandered through town, asking shop keepers and passersby if they had seen Emily and a fair-haired young man with a sturdy build and threadbare suit. None had. Not even the town crier who knew _everyone's _business.

His despair and frustration continued to deepen as he made his way to the docks. The odor of fish was strong and moored boats bobbed upon the dark gray waters. Only one dockworker responded to his question.

"Aye, sir," he said. "But just the young man. Blond, like you said, with worn clothes." A sickening feeling crawled in James' stomach. "He was alone and paid the boat's captain in gold to take him far away from this place, right that moment. He seemed to be in quite a hurry to get away."

"And you are certain no one was with him? Not a woman wearing a wedding gown?"

"No, sir. I think I'd have remembered that. No, he was quite alone."

Emily! Why hadn't she been with him? Where was she? James' chest clenched with a painful tightness and he fought an urge to vomit. He knew that he had sensed something sinister about Barkis and began to fear the worst. Why, why hadn't Emily listened to him? Why didn't he try harder to convince her to? Why hadn't he watched her more closely instead of losing himself in his work every night? Had that been more important than watching out for his daughter? Why…?

James made his way into the forest, toward that section that held the cemetery. He decided to visit Sara's grave, something he hadn't done since her funeral ten years earlier. He remembered that day, how young Emily had run to him, weeping, but the sight of her only pained him deeper. Instead of drawing her into his arms and sharing the pain together, he had turned from her, walked away, lost in his own grief. He had glanced back briefly to see her crumpled on the ground, her small body shaking with sobs. An urge to pick her up and hold her had filled him but he'd fought it and turned away once again.

She looks so much like Sara, he had thought. They had the same hair, long and black with a glossy blue tinge and large eyes the color of dusk. Even their graceful mannerisms, their musical gifts were identical. I love Emily, he'd thought. But just looking at her filled him with such pain, reminded him of his loss.

A heavy rain was falling by the time he reached the cemetery but the thick trees blocked much of it. Ravens cawed in the distance, their haunting cries mingling with the pattering rain. Sorrow tugged at him as he stepped up to Sara's tombstone and ran his hand over the cold, curving edge. It was damp and mossy.

James saw a scrap of something white on the ground and bent to pick it up. It was a shred of beaded silk and could only be from…

Sara's wedding gown! Emily _had _been wearing it. The pine-coated ground was in disarray, as if there had been a struggle.

James twisted the silken shred around in his hand. Emily, where are you…?

His gaze settled on a patch of earth, a fresh grave next to an oak tree with tangled roots. It was unmarked and appeared to have been carelessly covered, as if someone and dug a hole and then hastily heaped dirt over it.

Emily…

His boiling rage returned, overpowering his grief, but this time it was directed solely at Barkis. I'll find him, James thought, and not rest until he is strung from the gallows.

But he couldn't move. His legs felt weak. He knelt next to that grave and wept, something he hadn't done since Sara had died.

How could he have lost both his wife and his daughter? There was nothing left to live for.

"You've hated me ever since Mother died." The memory of Emily's biting words, when he had forbidden her to marry Barkis, cut through his mind.

Did she really believe that? James thought back, to all those times when he'd ignored her or scolded her as a child whenever she'd brought home a playmate from the poorer side of town.

I'd only wanted the best for her, he thought. But she was so kind-hearted, another trait so like Sara…that which had endeared him to Sara in the first place.

He had felt that Emily could do so much better than Barkis. She'd deserved to marry a wealthy man and live well, not a penniless drifter.

One who had turned out to be a murderer…

James had felt that there was something shifty about Barkis when he had first entered their house.

But he didn't think that he was capable of doing anything _this _vile.

"Emily, please forgive me," James whispered as he weakly struggled to his feet. He gathered a clump of flowers that randomly sprouted at the bases of some of the trees and placed them on her grave. "If only I could see you again for just a moment, I'd hold you and tell you I didn't hate you. If only…"

But it was too late.

He stumbled home, his steps heavy. He didn't care that the rain soaked his clothes and hair and washed away his tears.

The concerned servants pulled him into the house. Geoffrey the butler walked James up the long winding staircase to his room where he helped him into a dry nightshirt and placed him into bed, bundling him in blankets. James could only lay still and shiver. He found he couldn't speak, couldn't say anything about Emily. He couldn't bear to tell any of the servants. They all adored her.

"I'll send for the doctor, sir," Geoffrey said as the maid Lydia lit a fire.

In spite of the fire's warmth and the covers heaped over him, James couldn't stop trembling. First Sara and now Emily.

But Emily had died, brutally murdered, believing he hated her…

How could she not think that? he thought as a dizzying tightness clenched his chest. His skin felt clammy and his arm tingled with a numbing sensation. I hadn't been the most attentive father. Why didn't I listen to her more? Or show more of an interest in her music and dancing? As a child, she had always been so eager to play a song for him on the piano, either one she had composed or learned from Sara.

Still, he had ignored the friends, colleagues and other townsfolk who informed him that he should tell Emily she should give up her passion for music and dance since it was considered unladylike, improper. Just seeing that sparkle come to her eyes and the bright flush that touched her cheeks whenever she played or danced had been enough to convince him that he could never take those joys away from her, no matter what others said. Sara had been the same way, practically a rebel in her passion to do what she loved. A rebel. Just as Pastor Galswells said.

Still, I should have expressed how proud I was of her, he thought. I really was. She'd had wonderful talents.

Had…had… That word echoed through his mind with a painful clanging. Grief burrowed into him as he realized he would never hear her play the piano or sing again. She was gone. Gone forever, just like Sara…

That hollow agony stabbed his chest.

His eyes felt too heavy. He could no longer hold them open. His body went limp as a spasm of intense pain pierced his chest again.

He sunk into darkness.

When his vision returned, James found himself standing in a strange place. It appeared to be part of a town but not his town. The alleys were winding and the buildings were slanted at odd angles, giving it a surreal appearance. The entire place seemed to be underground, as if it had been built inside a giant cavern. Colorful lights seeped from everywhere.

The pain in his chest was gone and he felt stronger. Was this a dream? This surprised him since he seldom remembered his dreams. And those he did had never felt _this _real.

He noticed that he was standing in front of a structure that appeared to be a pub. The sign above read _The_ _Ball and Socket. _That's an odd name for a pub, James thought and was surprised when he felt himself smile. Well, while I'm here, I might as well get a drink. I could certainly use one!

As he raised a hand to push open the door, he noticed that it was colored a peculiar blue shade. Odd. That must be from the strange lighting in this place.

The moment he stepped through the door, he was accosted by a flurry of loud noises and strange people. Many of them were skeletons while others appeared to be walking, blue-skinned corpses. "New arrival!" many of them shouted and patted him on the back.

"Prepare the drinks!" someone shouted with a French accent. James looked toward the bar and saw a man's severed head, carried about by beetles, yelling this out. "The gentleman will need something strong!"

James blinked. What a strange dream! I've never had such an imaginative one in my life, or one that felt so _real…_

"Father!" called a familiar voice, one he had been longing to hear.

He looked in its direction. Emily was scrambling up from an old piano and hurrying toward him. Her skin also held a subtle blue tinge and a dark bruise smudged her forehead. She was garbed in Sara's wedding gown. Even with those flaws, she still looks so much like Sara…

Joy filled James. If this was a dream, he didn't want it to end. Ever.

"Emily!" He drew her into a tight embrace. Her slender body felt cold and had an uncomfortable stiffness but that didn't matter. She was here, his wish had been granted. He could at last tell her what needed to be said. "My Emily. I've found you. I thought you were gone forever."

"H-how did you…what happened?" Tears were spilling from her eyes.

Queer warmth tingled through James as he realized the truth. He was dead. That was how he was able to be here with Emily. So there is an Afterlife, he thought fleetingly. I'd never believed in that sort of thing, and certainly not one that was this bizarre. "I died of grief when I learned that I had lost you," he said truthfully.

Emily bowed her head. More tears slipped from her eyes. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "You were right about Barkis. I should have listened to you. I-I didn't mean to hurt you so. I—"

"I know." James kissed her cold, tear-wet cheek and stroked her hair beneath the veil. "It's all right. I've found you and that's all that matters now."

He tightened his embrace. Emily leaned against him and rested her head upon his shoulder. He could feel the moisture of her tears seeping through the fabric of his nightshirt.

I should have held her like this a long time ago, he thought. Maybe she'd still be alive if I had…She wouldn't have felt a need to run away with that…that monster.

Still, he was comforted. Barkis will eventually get what he deserves, he knew. It's just a matter of time. Nothing else matters now, not the stolen family treasure, or work, or what I've left behind. Even our servants will eventually move on, continue with their own lives. I have Emily back. And Sara should be here as well. That's all that matters. For the first time in many years, he felt calm and at peace.

Someone was calling to him. _James, _the familiar voice said within his mind. _It is time. You gave Emily your love. Now it is time for you to move on, join me._

Sara? He looked around. The other dead had stepped back to give them space. Some were playing a game of pool, others were sipping drinks at the bar. Emily still clung to him. No one else seemed to have heard Sara's voice.

_Come, James. It is your time. I have missed you._

_And I you,_ he thought. _But Emily. I can't leave her. Not now._

_Emily must find her own way. There is still something she must do, that only she knows. That is the purpose of the Underworld, to fulfill unfinished business. In the meantime she will be safe and happy, surrounded by people who care about her. Don't worry. In time she will join us. But you have accomplished what you needed. She now knows that you love her and always did. _

James felt his body growing lighter as it gradually dissolved into a shimmering mist. It was a comfortable, freeing feeling. He had never experienced such peace. Was such euphoria ever possible when he'd been alive?

"Father, what's happening?" Emily asked in alarm.

James had an urge to continue comforting her but no longer had arms to hold her. His body was losing its form, becoming that mist. She will join us soon, he knew. It may be years for her but it will seem like moments for us. "It's time for me to move on, just as Sara had."

Emily's wet eyes widened. "You know about that? How is that possible?"

Someone must have informed Emily of that wonderful experience, James thought and couldn't wait until it was her turn to join them. "I can feel it. I know I didn't express my feelings to you when you were alive. Losing you allowed me to realize that. But now I am able to show you the love I should have given you long ago. You have set me free, Emily." He kissed her cheek, felt the comforting warmth grow even stronger. "I can tell you still have unfinished business. You will join us when you are ready.

"You look just like your mother in that wedding gown," he added, smiling.

He was rising above everything. Below, Emily dropped to her knees and sobbed, her face in her hands. The other dead gathered around her, offering comfort.

She's sad now, he thought, continuing upward, past the pub, over an endless surreal city that stretched forever beneath a smoky cavern-sky. But she will be all right. It won't be long before she joins us…

As James passed above the ground and drifted into the sky, he saw Sara. Her spirit was a shimmering rainbow laced with dancing butterflies but an image of how she had looked in life passed before him. He embraced that image. Countless other spirits in ethereal forms of nature joined them. They were all one, the breath of the Earth.

Soon Emily, too, would be a part of this.

Soon…


End file.
